


Take a bite out of life

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Incubus and Werewolf [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author is sick, Author needs to stop writing tags now, But it's really consensual, Complete, Derek Likes Stiles, Derek Needs To Use His Words, Derek Uses His Words, Does anyone actually read these tags?, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hand Jobs, I wrote this instead of studying, I'm going to fail my course because of this, I'm sick of being sick, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Relationship(s), Incubus Stiles, Incubus increases emotions already there, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Series, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Derek/Stiles Relationship, Sickfic, Stiles Likes Derek, Stiles is Legal, Vampire Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2048829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets infected by vampire blood. According to a really old Russian text, he could become a blood-sucking monster like Bram Stoker's Dracula, an incubus-like blood-sucker who needs blood and sex to survive, or he could literally drain people's souls.</p><p>The hour of truth is approaching, as is the full moon. As such, Derek's the only one available to be stuck on Stiles-sitting duty, and is the only one there when Stiles finds out exactly what new piece he's becoming on the chessboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a bite out of life

**Author's Note:**

> The tagged non-con is implied but it is actually consensual, just a misunderstanding.

Stiles is **so** not pleased with this plan. They're going after a vampire on the Deadpool list. He still doesn't know whether it's to save or kill her ( _hey, $4 million is a lot of money, all right?!_ ), but that little shit Garrett's already there, and he's obviously trying to decapitate her with his modified crosse stick ( _and seriously, does that bastard even know how much those things cost? Stiles has been stuck with school crosses since he was sitting on the bench with Scott. Oh wait, Garrett's got something like $500,000 stashed away! Fucker._ ). Garrett's dipped the blade in something that seems to set the vampire's skin on actual literal fire and Stiles runs forward with Scott beside him in an effort to do something. Scott knocks Garrett aside a second too late, and the vampire's decapitated with her blood spraying out over Stiles' face. He stops and stares as Scott and Garrett wrestle on the ground. From the crap that's pouring out of Garrett's mouth, it seems he's still upset about Violet. Oh well.

Unfortunately, that rage in Garrett makes him unpredictable and surprisingly strong, and Scott gets stabbed a few times by his modified crosse. It's still not enough to get Garrett out from underneath Scott's werewolf-y weight, but it's enough to make Stiles nervous and he steps forward, licking his lips anxiously. It's not until he tastes the metallic and coppery taste on his tongue that Stiles realises he's just actually ingested vampire blood, and that was one of the first things the Bestiary advised **not to do**. One drop of vampire blood getting into the body is a _very_ fucking bad thing, and Stiles just swallowed at least four dozen drops.

"Uh, Scott? Slight problem here," Stiles says, voice almost half an octave higher.

Scott knocks Garrett out before he looks over (they've learned the hard way about getting distracted while there's still someone conscious and hell-bent on killing them; Kate Argent, mainly, thank you very much, you bitch), red eyes fading back as he takes in Stiles' pale blood-splattered form.

"Dude? What's wrong?"

"Kinda did something stupid. Um, remember on the way over here how I was saying this was a bad idea 'cause vampires are super fucking contagious?"

"Yeah, so? I'm already a werewolf and it'd heal it immediately... And you're not talking about me, are you?" Scott asks, eyes widening when Stiles shakes his head.

"Think I just made the chessboard, dude. My dad's going to freak out," Stiles groans.

"He's not the only one," Scott mutters. "Did anything you've read say how long it takes for it to kick in?"

"About two days. Great, just in time for the weekend _and_ the full moon."

"Uh, Stiles?" Scott says, frowning. "You're not dead, you becoming a vampire isn't going to kill you, is it?"

Stiles has spent so long with Scott that he's not entirely proud to admit that he understood Scott's sentence without even needing to think about it for long.

"Dude, I've got no idea if it'll kill me first. Most of the people that were infected were killed straight away. This was one of the creatures that not even the Argents wanted kept alive to study, not like the werewolves or the wendigos, or even the kanimas. That... That's not a good thing, is it?" Stiles mumbles, looking at the decapitated vampire.

"Well, we've never heard of any people walking around with hole marks in their neck, so maybe it's not that bad if you can control it?" Scott suggests, ever the optimist.

It's not that bad, Stiles discovers. In fact, it's so much worse.

...

The weekend of the full moon has Liam and Malia sharing the basement at Lydia's lake house (Malia finally agreed to share, and has suspiciously stopped visiting Stiles at night, and Liam's starting to look even more smug than normal; so long as he gets a full night of uninterrupted sleep and his back heals, Stiles does not care), and since they're not sure what will happen to Stiles, he's got his own set of chains as far away from the rest of them as possible. Derek's been given Stiles-sitting duty because Scott needs to be there for Liam as his Alpha, and where Scott goes, Kira will follow; Stiles doesn't want Peter anywhere near him if he can help it; and Lydia's working on her Banshee thing with _Parrish,_  of all people (she says he helps her focus, strengthening her emotion and the ability to hear noises; Stiles doesn't really understand it, but he's seen the looks they've been giving each other all damn night, and he'll eat his shirt if they're not having sex by the end of this weekend). So, Derek it is.

Stiles is in front of his computer, surrounded by as many books as he could find about vampires (if another damn website mentioned Twilight fanfiction or anything related to sparkling vampires, he was going to throw something in the fucking lake. In fact, if he becomes a sparkling vampire, he'll throw himself into the damn lake.), and he's madly trying to research vampirism without the Anne Rice, Bram Stoker, Stephenie Meyer influences, which is ridiculously limited and all seems to be in Russian. Which is little to no help to him. He shoves the laptop away in frustration and grabs one of the books to read instead. It's a collection of essays on vampires, and Stiles thinks it's actually to do with Buffy. He's not overly surprised to find out he's right, but by then, he can't be fucked looking anymore, and just keeps reading.

"Huh, this is interesting," Derek murmurs, and Stiles glances up to see he's looking at the open laptop.

 _Holy fuck, did he hide his porn folder before researching?_ he worries immediately. Stiles moves as far as the chains will let him and sees that Derek's still on the Russian page.

"You can read that?" he asks in surprise.

"Studied Linguistics at NYU, and a lot of the books in the vault are in different languages, not hard to pick up when you know the basics," Derek says, and damn him, because he actually manages to say it in a way that sounds genuinely humble and not like a narcissistic asshole.

"All right; so what's it say?" Stiles prompts.

"There's actually different kinds of vampires, the main one people know, the undead feeding on the blood of the living, the usual. Then there's a kind that sounds similar to a succubus or incubus, and again with the teeth and blood. But this third kind actually drains a person's life-essence completely. With enough control, it can be done in smaller doses, but it essentially drains people's souls."

Stiles scrambles as far away from Derek as possible, ignoring the books he scatters across the floor as he does so, and Derek's look of surprise. There's been no reports of people being bitten, no dead people turning up with two fang marks, no blood banks robbed, and Stiles feels sick at the possibility of draining people's _souls_. It just seems so much worse than a bit of blood - though he honestly wasn't looking forward to _that_ part either. His stomach churns and he clenches his fists to try to think about something else.

He ignores Derek's questioning look, and stares down at the mess of books on the floor because he needs a minute to process all of this. (Fuck, he needs ten minutes. Maybe ten hundred minutes.) Stiles hasn't even told his father yet because everyone agreed that there was no use in worrying the Sheriff if nothing even happened. It wasn't like the Argents had tested _every_ drop of blood to see if they made vampires, and it was totally reasonable to think he was just overreacting and everything would be _fine_ on Monday morning. (Yeah fucking right.)

"No one's turned up dead with fang marks, have they?" Derek asks, cutting straight to the heart of the matter in seconds.

Stiles shakes his head, bitter at the fact that people are out there living when they could be dead with a bit of blood drained from their bodies. Damn them all.

"Hey, Stiles, look at me. Don't worry, okay? We'll get through this, just like we have everything else. Y'know, with the kanima, and the Alpha pack, and the nogitsune."

"Which was also me," Stiles mutters.

"And Peter and Kate, which were probably me," Derek retorts, and he's honest to god  _smiling_ at him.

Stiles glowers for a second, kicking out at Derek for looking so damn pleased with his own joke with his weird smile, but it just seems to make Derek smile broader still. Stiles turns away, as he feels sick again. His stomach churns, and this time it doesn't seem to stop. A sweet scent fills the air and he turns to face Derek, realising that the smell is coming from his own body. He smells fucking fantastic, and he strains against the chains, wishing he could fuck himself or at least hit it off.

"Hey, Derek? What would you do if it was the second option? With the vampires?" he asks, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

Derek seems surprised at the question, then he blushes as he realises the implication of it, and shrugs a bit, obviously hoping he looked indifferent.

"Not really sure. Depends on the amount of blood you'd need. Not a fan of being bled to death, and unfortunately, thanks to the combined efforts of the Argents and the Alpha pack, I actually know how much blood loss it takes to kill me."

Stiles wants to laugh at the fact that Derek's become a regular Chatty Cathy now that he's nervous and trying to avoid the question. So, with his own sweet scent permeating the air, he decides to be a little more direct with his questioning.

"Mmm. And what about the sex?" Stiles purrs, licking his lips.

Derek shifts a bit where he's seated, and Stiles is almost 90 percent positive he's trying to hide an erection. It's obvious when Derek catches his scent, because his nostrils flare and his eyes flash gold, lips parting as he stares at Stiles. Derek actually lets out a whine that's full of need and want and pure lust, and it seems to reverberate in the air, mixing with Stiles' scent until he can almost _taste_ it.

He laughs, feeling so ridiculously light-hearted that he could almost burst with the emotion, and leans back against the chains, making his most provocative pose possible.

"Well, big boy? Gonna sit there, or am I gon-"

Stiles doesn't get to finish his threat because Derek's on him immediately, claws tearing at his clothes until he's bare, and there's scratches on his skin, but they feel so good. Derek's passion tastes so fucking good, and he needs more of it. He needs to feel that want and lust and everything hot and heavy in his own body, he _needs_ to have it, and his mouth is latched onto Derek's neck before he's even realised. Stiles doesn't even care about the guttural moan that rips out of Derek's throat, he doesn't care that this is blood, that he's actually willingly sucking and lapping at the already-healing skin. His whole body seems to vibrate as Derek's blood burns through his body, and the moment Derek's hand tugs on his exposed dick, Stiles can't hold back, and he comes all over Derek's hand. Derek lets out another growl, this one possessive and needy all at once (is it weird that Stiles has a catalogue of Derek's growls and facial expressions in his head?), and then he licks his hand eagerly. Stiles passes out, body tingling, warm and pleasant, and sags against the chains and into Derek's chest.

Stiles wakes up with the sunrise the next morning, still chained to the beam, his arms dead weights above him, a threadbare blanket covering his groin, and oh, right, _completely alone_. So, yeah. It's a hell of a lot worse than Stiles ever thought it would be. He can't believe he took advantage of Derek like that. Derek must have run off as soon as he'd woken up, and he's sure that he'll hate him forever for what he did.

Scott and Kira find him a few hours after sunrise, and from the debauched look of their clothes (and the blushing, not to mention the hicky on Kira's neck), they definitely got up to something last night and Stiles doubts it was watching Liam and Malia.

"You okay, Stiles?" Scott asks, watching him carefully.

"Fine."

Scott obviously doesn't believe him, and from her expression, neither does Kira. Stiles sighs and tries to blow a stray clump of hair out of his face.

"I'm still me; I'm not going to try to kill you, and I'm pretty sure I'm not dead," Stiles says, and he'd shrug except he can't actually feel his arms.

Now _that_ Scott believes, and he unlocks the chains. Kira innocently asks where Derek is, and Stiles hides his flustering over the fact that he's about to lose his thin blanket. The question's forgotten while Scott and Kira rush off to get him clothes, and Stiles spends a few minutes flailing his arms around, trying to get circulation back into his limbs. By the time they return a few minutes later, Stiles has pins and needles which is better than that feeling of nothing. Phantom limb feeling is fucking weird when your limbs are still there. He manages to get changed on his own after a couple of attempts, and then Stiles follows them back up to the house.

The others are all at the dining room table, breakfast foods spread out across various plates. Liam and Malia are sitting way too close for it to be friendship anymore, and Lydia actually has one of her legs twined around Parrish's (he blushes a bit when Stiles comes in, because they both know he works with his father and this could potentially be so freaking weird). Derek's nowhere to be seen, and Stiles tries not to fixate on that. Except for the fact where he totally does.

Stiles doesn't tell the others about Derek, or the rough hand job he'd received, just that he'll be able to survive it. He obviously needs some blood to help sate the pain, but he's able to keep his breakfast down without issue (thank god, there was no way Stiles was willing to give up curly fries), and while he does mumble something about needing passion, the others thankfully don't comment. Breakfast slips back into silence, and Stiles returns to his thoughts about where the hell Derek might be.

Stiles finds out approximately half an hour later, when he drives home to find Derek's Camaro sitting in his driveway, and his father's cruiser beside it. He blinks a couple of times because what sort of fresh hell is this? Eventually, Stiles gets out of the car and goes up to the house. It's so fucking weird that he wants to knock on his own front door, but he doesn't have a chance because the door opens and Derek steps out to pull Stiles into a heated kiss.

"What the hell?" Stiles demands, pulling away.

Derek grins at him (it's ten times weirder than the smile), and raises an eyebrow at him (amused with a slight hint of _why do I put up with you?_ ). "Told your father about us; I thought he'd like to hear the fact we've been secretly dating for the last six months from me since he can't actually kill me," Derek says, shrugging.

Which is when Stiles notices an actual bullet hole in Derek's shirt. Then he processes Derek's words properly, and he's got his own eyebrow response (What. The. Fuck?!). Derek raises his eyebrow again, eyes flicking up to his room. Right, they've got something to talk about, obviously. Mainly Derek kissing him. But since the Sheriff thinks they're dating, Stiles pulls Derek in for another kiss because he's kind of angry and annoyed and he was worried that he'd hurt Derek after what had happened last night, and all of that emotion gets poured into his kiss. Stiles is kind of pleased to note that they're both breathing heavily when he pulls away and Derek looks a little dazed. _Serves him right, the jerk_.

"Get inside this instant, Zbigniew Stilinski," his father hisses at him from the entrance, and _ohhhh he's in **deep** shit_.

Stiles takes Derek's hand, threading their fingers together, and tugs him inside. The door is closed behind them firmly, and John looks at his son, his anger seeming to melt in a second, and he looks like his heart is actually breaking.

"Did you not tell me because I said you weren't gay?" John asks, and okay, now Stiles _feels_ like shit.

"No. No, it wasn't because of that, Dad! Honest! It's just ... Derek and I get into a lot of scrapes because of the supernatural stuff happening, and I wasn't sure we'd survive, so I didn't want to make it bigger than it was. But this kind of just happened," Stiles says. (It's the absolute truth.)

"Would've preferred you both told me, that way I wouldn't've felt the need to shoot your boyfriend for taking advantage of you."

Stiles snorts at that. "Please, I was the one that seduced him." (Truth.)

John shakes his head and laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, you always have been a determined kid."

"Oh, god no. We're going upstairs before you bring out the photo albums!" Stiles groaned, tugging Derek to the staircase.

"I want to see them," Derek says, as if he's actually a doting boyfriend, and Stiles scowls at him for whatever the hell this is.

"Nothing below the waist, and just ... be safe," John calls.

They both blush and go upstairs that little bit faster. Derek closes the door quietly, and Stiles turns on him, whacking his shoulder.

"What the fuck was that about?" he hisses.

"Figured out how to deal with your new chess piece," Derek replies, grinning a little as he details his plan. "We tell everyone we're dating, and whenever you need blood or sex, you call me. It stops you from snacking on or fucking the nearest available person, and it gives me a reason to be around you without getting arrested. Again."

"You couldn't have discussed it with me first?"

"You didn't seem opposed to being with me last night," Derek replies, blushing a little again, and Stiles just wants to kiss him all over again. So he does.

"One amendment?" he murmurs against Derek's lips. "We tell everyone we're dating and then we _actually_ date. Along with the sex and blood thing, 'cause I don't know about you, but that was pretty amazing last night," Stiles quips with a grin.

"Yes."

"Was that in agreement to the amazing hand job, or the dating?"

"Both," Derek replies, smirking.

"Good. Now, let's practice on my control. I want to see if I can smell that good _all_ the time. But only when I'm with you," Stiles adds with a slight frown. "Not sure I want Liam or Scott smelling me while I'm that irresistible."

Derek answers him by pulling him back towards the bed, manhandling Stiles until he's sitting in his lap firmly, and Stiles shivers, 'cause he really does love it when Derek slams him into solid things (preferably his chest from now on). They practice for the rest of the weekend.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just imagine Stiles with his 'lil fangs!
> 
> Also, my extra brainspace:
> 
> \- John gets told about Stiles being a vampire (Stiles leaves the incubus-like part out of it) and promptly starts making a list of places that have blood on stock in case something happens. There's a surprising amount: hospital, butcher, blood banks - why Beacon County has ten blood banks, John ... actually doesn't want to know.
> 
> \- The scent that Stiles permeates affects the others around him and since he wasn't able to control it (and probably won't be for a year or two yet), Stiles accidentally set off everyone's primal need to have sex/be intimate - Lydia/Parrish had sex, Scott/Kira intense making out (probably fondling over clothes involved as well), and Liam and Malia scratched each other up like crazy. ... Beacon Hill's population kind of increases steadily until Stiles is able to control it properly.
> 
> \- Stiles being a vampire is a full-time thing, but the need for blood/sex/passion/all three (Derek) is a bi-monthly thing. Not that it stops him from trying to rut against Derek at the most inopportune times anyway, now that he actually can. (Peter's face was hilarious; they get thrown out of several stores for defiling the changing rooms; at college after summer, Stiles' roommate discovers very damn quickly to just not be in the freaking building if he wants to sleep through the night - Derek and Stiles become notorious throughout the whole damn dorm building within the first month.)


End file.
